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Chapter 4 - Building A Squad

The jet's pilot didn't even stop the engines when they landed in the Gloucestershire Airport of the United Kingdom. The three occupants of the cabin looked out through one of the windows and watched as the fourth strode up the walkway to the entrance. All of their heads turned towards the door as he came into the jet.

He was tall and dark, and at first glance he may have seemed skinny, but looking closer, one could see he was actually layered in lean muscle. A big smile that plastered his face revealed straight, white teeth. He wore a simplistic grey T-shirt with jeans and blue running shoes, while a pair of leather suitcases held the rest of his belongings.

"Michael Dawson of the SAS, at your service," he said as he walked around the room, shaking everyone's hands. A British accent rested lightly on each word. Dawson finally completed his movement around the room and made his way to the seat across from Skall.

Ian began noticing a pattern. All of the men gathered so far were the highest ranked members of special forces from around the world. The best of the best, the elite among the skilled, assembling at the call of this man, Lassin, for some unknown mission.

They were quickly on their way to the next stop: Ukraine.

During the flight, the three made some light conversation, and Ian got to know Michael a little better. He had been born in London, England, to a wealthy family. He was the best athlete and student at The City of London School, a boys-only school in the middle of the city it was named for. Right before his graduation, his perfect grades, athleticism, and patriotism attracted the attention of the government, and he was offered a special training path to join the special forces, which Dawson quickly accepted.

When he joined, even in a class of the best, he excelled. He advanced quickly ended with a lead position of his own squad. Since then, they had carried out over a dozen missions entirely on their own, at one point even going into the Kremlin on behalf of the USA during the war.

Ian glanced at Skall. He had made two attempts to start a conversation with the man, but the only response he had received was a nod at the first comment. Dawson had made a few jokes, hoping to draw him out of his shell, but had met with no success. The giant man was a mystery in himself. None of them had heard of him, only the group he worked for.

Looking at his watch for the first time since he had boarded the plane, Ian realized he had been flying for over 15 hours. 9:15 p.m. He decided he would adjust his watch to whatever the time was at their final destination when they arrived.

But right now they were landing to pick up the next team member.

"Gentlemen," said Lassin with his usual, almost-prideful smile. "If you look outside, you will see the Kiev Boryspil Airport of Ukraine. This is where we will be picking up the fourth member of our group."

The three others looked out of their windows to see the curved architecture of the airport roof. As they drew closer, a figure walked out towards the end of the runway, carrying a small suitcase in one hand and talking on a cellphone with the other. He hung up and lowered the device to his pocket as the jet pulled to a stop in front of him.

Entering the cabin under everyone's eyes was a relatively short man, white with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. He walked with a sort of arrogant grace that drew every man's attention. His gaze seemed to be one that would make most people shrink away, but the men assembled in the room were not ones to back down.

He glanced around the room, giving each person a short glance before letting a big smirk spread across his face. Looking back to Lassin, he said, "So, old man, I know you're the one who hired me. You gonna introduce me to your little posse here?"

Lassin smiled. "My friends, this is Jason Grayson, leading member of Broadsword, a company specializing in marketable militaristic services. In other words, he's a mercenary."

At the sound of the company's name, all of the others were startled. "Wait," said Ian. "Broadsword sold their men to Russia during the war."

"Yeah," added Dawson, losing his grin for the first time since boarding the jet. "Three of my mates were killed going up against them!"

Grayson cocked his head to the side and peered at Dawson. "In that case," he replied calmly, "you should know better than most that we are some of the best trained soldiers in the world. And I am the best that Broadsword has to offer."

"I can see," interrupted Lassin, "there is going to be some tension here because of past occurrences. But for this mission, you will need to put your pasts behind you. This will require your full attention, so let's save the fighting for another time."

Grayson grinned, and Michael and Ian both scowled. At this point, Ian noticed he had been standing, and returned to his seat. "One more stop," he said. "One more stop, and we'll finally hear what all this is about."

This brought a collective nod from the other occupants and a small smile from Lassin. Ian laid back in his chair and decided to rest on the way to their last stop. He closed his eyes and let the darkness swallow his mind.